On the Beach
by Merrin
Summary: They got their happy ending. But bright sunlight can cast shadows.


**Title:**

On the Beach

**Author:**

Merrin

**Disclaimer:**

All characters and settings are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and the rest. They are **not mine.**

**Note:**

They got their happy ending. But bright sunlight casts shadows.

_What kind of house does an ex-vampire buy?_

_Windows. Lots of windows, to maximize the amount of pure, natural light pouring into the house. The master bedroom has a skylight. So does the kitchen. And the living room. The SUV parked in the drive has a sun roof. Next to it is the convertible, open to all the elements._

Buffy stood on the deck looking out at the ocean. The sun had just finished sinking under the waves.

She felt him walk up behind her, and spoke without turning around. "So. No vampires allowed, huh? Sun room. Sun porch. Sun roof."

"No vamps. Only sun worshippers," Angel grinned. "Wanna listen to some 'Beach Boys'? Vamps can't stand 'em, you know."

"Answer me this, Coppertone-boy. Why, in the middle of the day, do I always find you in the darkest corner of the house?" She raised an eyebrow. "Maybe you're still a little in love with the darkness?"

"Two hundred-year-old habits die hard." Angel leaned over the railing, looking at her view of the ocean. A tiny smile started to curve at the corner of his mouth "You know...my heart beats a little faster just before I go out into bright sunlight. It still feels kinda like life and death to me." For a moment, he was like a little boy, eager to take a dare.

He looked down at her. "So strange, you know, to hear myself say that." His voice was filled with wonder, even after all these weeks. "Every night, I lie still, just so I can feel it beating."

"You've got a strange new hobby. To go with your new obsession with your own reflection in the mirror." Buffy put a hand up to feather the hair at the back of his neck. "But that's of the good, 'cause your hair has improved one hundred percent."

"I can't believe you never said anything..."

She smiled as she leaned her face against his shoulder. "And I still can't believe you made this much money."

"Surprising how much people will pay when fiends from hell are snapping at their heels."

"Explain it to me again. About it being okay to charge people money for saving their lives."

He shook his head. "Let's not have _that_ argument again. Consider the subject changed." He reached over to clasp her fingers. "What did Willow say?"

"They're fine. Mostly the same. Willow is even more powerful, if that's possible. And she's single again. She's sworn off of girls with tongue piercings. Xander's dating women who are bad for him, which worries Willow, like always." Buffy was looking out at the changing lights of the sky: pink, orange, purple. She gently pulled her hand out of Angel's grasp. "Giles is, you know, the same old Giles. I found out he's never gotten any of my e-mails because he forgot his password. Accidentally on purpose. His own personal protest against the computer age." Buffy leaned her chin on her clasped hands. "Oh, and apparently they had a close call. Near-apocalypse."

"When was this?"

"Last Friday. I think."

"I didn't hear anything from L.A. What were we doing that day?"

"We took a drive. Along the coast."

"Right." Angel shook his head. "I can't believe the world almost ended."

"Me neither."

Angel and Buffy were both quiet for a moment as they gazed out over the restless surface of the water.

"Pretty nice way to go, huh?"

"Yeah. I'd say so." 

He looked up at the darkening sky. Buffy did too. It was sprinkled with stars just starting to appear.

"God, it's so beautiful." He turned to her. "You're so beautiful. I wish I were a poet, I'd know the right words to use."

A poet. Buffy looked at him curiously. It was an odd thing for him to say. She tried not to think too deeply about why it bothered her. It was just a little thing. But it reminded her of things she usually avoided thinking about.

She studied his face. His skin was a deep bronze, a side effect of the love affair he was having with the sun. She ought to be jealous. And worried. Did she already detect a trace of age, around his eyes, at the corners of his mouth? He never spoke about growing old, about his own mortality. Maybe he was so grateful for his very own fully-functioning human heart that he didn't begrudge the decaying of his body.

Or maybe he didn't think about it too much. Like most people. They didn't think about death until it came up and bit them on the ass. Or on the side of the neck. Buffy wondered if she'd be ready when grim reaper number three stepped up.

Angel wrapped his arm around her. Completely around her. He was such a bear of a man. It was comforting, and odd, all at the same time. It still felt ...new.

She didn't understand, the way her body remembered someone else so stubbornly. Someone long gone. His size, and the way his body fit against hers. Long after her mind had banished him, her body was still re-living.

She sighed, impatient with the waywardness of her own thoughts. Being in Angel's arms felt good. It was all good. And, she affirmed, uh, firmly...it was the way things were _meant_ to be.

The past didn't inhabit her waking hours at all. Except for_ right this very minute_, she admitted silently. And it invaded her dreams. Not often. Not every night. Just... sometimes.

"You seem so far away," Angel said, breaking her out of her disturbing daydreaming. "I'm not the only one who's in love with the night." Angel was studying her profile. "I guess it's not really night yet, is it? It must be the twilight that you're in love with."

She looked up without answering, watching day turning toward night, a deepening shade of gray, now. The air was thicker somehow, harder to see through. Buffy noticed that the lights further down the beach looked like tiny flames.

"I'm gonna go inside," Angel said, "I'm thinking about starting dinner." He squeezed her shoulders, and kissed her on the top of her head.

"Oh, good God, what's it gonna be tonight?" There was true dread in the question. "I know you want to test drive your human appetite on everything, but, for my sake, there's gotta be a limit..."

"It's a surprise," he grinned. "You're gonna like it, I promise."

She sighed with affectionate resignation. "That's what you say every time. I'll be there in a minute. And I maybe want to give Dawn a call."

Buffy watched him go into the house through the sliding glass door.

The foam on top of the waves made them glow white as they rolled onto the beach, but the ocean, out there, was already black. The sky was still deciding between the light and the darkness. When the moment came to choose, it always happened so suddenly that Buffy couldn't pin down the exact moment. She had tried to catch that moment, so many times.

She looked down at her hand, curled over the railing. She held it up. She had felt the tingling all day today. She flexed her fingers. No visible scarring. No neurological damage, the doctor had said. So why...

It burned, where flames had engulfed Spike's hand, where she had touched the fire.

Her memories were like a primitive moving picture. Jittery and sometimes out of focus. She saw his face: so many expressions, each taking their turn: angry, aroused, pleading, bitter, tender, awe-struck. And she saw the pain that twisted his features.

She looked down at her hand. Was her pain in the here and now, or just a memory of it?

Slayers have been to heaven and back. Well...one, anyway. Demons have gone to hell. A couple have come back. Where was he now? Hopefully someplace where he felt no pain.

She looked out into the distance, the dark waters. Saw herself in the middle of that great expanse, wide from horizon to horizon, great depths below.

Was it pain, or its echo from the past that made her cry soundlessly, tears streaming down her face?

"Hey, Buffy. You gonna stay out there all night?"

Angel's voice startled her. God, how long had she been standing there?

Keeping her back to him, she self-consciously reached up to wipe her wet face. She stopped, bewildered. Her cheek was dry.

"Sorry. Coming right now."

When she turned around, she was smiling up at him, no shadow over her bright expression.

"You need some more time alone with your thoughts?"

"No. No thoughts. This blonde's head is completely empty. Just admiring the view."

"OK if watch the Weather Channel?"

She shook her head, smiling affectionately up at him as they both went inside. "It'll be sunny tomorrow, Angel. Isn't it always?"


End file.
